A Day in Service to the Hall: Morning

A sleep deprived man sets about his day of duties. This is his morning.

Dawn had yet to rise when the first sound arose from the
lone bedchamber on the second floor of the hall's rear domicile, an aggrieved
groan borne of yielding reluctance. The noise emanated from chamber's
inhabitant, Vhaldykryr, a man who had returned late the previous night. The day
itself exhausted him, yet he could not help but stir. A cruelty of long
instilled practices.

Resigned to consciousness, he rose from bed and unlatched
the window's worn shutters. The brisk, morning breeze, now unobstructed, blew
in and sent an enlivening shiver through him. He appreciated the minor
assistance in face of such empty sleeplessness. To struggle with weariness
would only make his duties more difficult.

With eyes still burning, he washed his face at the room's
half-full basin and, with fingers still moistened, swept back and tied his
near-black brown hair. After the application of alum and an herbal concoction,
Vhaldykryr dressed himself in a turquoise shirt with a shoulder cape-like
second layer and a pair of trousers held by a notched belt. He cinched three
pouches to the belt's left side, preparations for the day ahead, and left for
the first floor.

Halfway down the stairwell, he stopped and looked into the
domicile's central room, left curiously empty. The sight troubled him, as the
dwelling's other resident could be up to anything. The old man never slept and
hadn't since long before Vhaldykryr was born. His absence brought concern, and
concern spurred speech.

"Are you in, Grandfather?" Vhaldykryr called as he
watched the doors off the main room. An ambush wouldn't do him good and could
damn his mood with swiftness.

No response, not even the subtle shuffle of cloth that told
of his grandfather's movements. The elder, ever the schemer, must have a trap
laid. Vhaldykryr descended two more steps before calling out,
"Grandfather, are you about? I beseech you to respond, as I hold no desire
to involve the townsfolk again."

Silence responded until cut off by a faint, wispy rattle of
a voice from the doorway at the rear. A voice he had sought, yet still shivered
at upon hearing.

"Harrow the folk not for I am here, young Vhaldykryr. A
busy night I had in your absence. A night best treated with the lulls of
meditation. Care you join your dearest grandfather? For at least one
chime?"

The elder's offer, sung in inquisitive tones, reeked of a
plot. What he had in mind, both obscure and obvious, birthed in Vhaldykryr a
revulsion to the idea. The claim of work, however, peaked his interest. A rare
occurrence; one he learned at a young age to be curious, even wary, about.

"You tended the front? Do tell, how many requests did
we receive? Did you need write in the ledger?" Asked Vhaldykryr as he
descended the remaining steps. He now knew the elder's location, and so felt no
further hesitation; no inquisitive, nagging ambush awaited this morn.

"Requests were numerous, additions to the ledger less
so. I did all in my might to keep those pages unaltered. Know how otherwise
frustrates you." The rattle paused and then started again. "All notes
and requests lie beneath the counter, awaiting documentation and the
board."

Vhaldykryr held his tongue, fit to lash, deciding this
situation preferable to tearing down another board of requests. In continued
silence, he approached the curtain covered doorway at the room's southern end
and, in the single step over the threshold, entered the guild hall proper.

As the curtain swung over the framed orifice, he looked upon
the foyer half expecting to see the space in disarray. To his pleasure, the
vestibule remained intact. The counter before him had been cleaned and cleared
save for a polished candlestick. Aisles of bookshelves to the right remained
neatly populated, with a few exceptions, while the hallway to the left seemed
unchanged. Altogether, a small comfort.

Concerns swept away, Vhaldykryr set about his duties by
borrowing the flame of a lantern located in the hallway, situated beside the
request board, to light the candle. With light source acquired, he returned and
pulled an inkwell and quill from behind the counter, placing them upon the aged
surface. The arrangement set, the elder's documents were placed in the light's
reach and assessed.

Each parchment pained him.

"Such inconsistency. These would have been a nightmare
to deal with at the board; will have to rewrite every damned one. A small favor
he remembered the requisite details," Vhaldykryr mumbled as he sorted the
files into three stacks: requests, lower hall operation updates, and member
reports.

Aware of the workload's scope, he began rewriting the
documents.

***

Hours passed as he worked. Each parchment read with care and
then rewritten. The operation updates and member reports required more
intricate work, thorough readings of multi-page documents, each with a
peculiarity derived from their authors. They reminded him of the bedlamites who
headed the branches, and the less manic members of those halls. Each page from
these stacks needed their contents distilled and written in the relevant
registry, which led Vhaldykryr into the shelf-fashioned aisles repeatedly. By
the time he finished, dawn had caught up with him.

Two stacks of parchment remained: requests relevant to the
guild and those better suited for the Hunters Hall on the other side of town.
Why they ended up here, he hadn't the foggiest, though he suspected his
grandfather to be involved. With a shake of his head, he picked up the
rewritten sheets and returned to the hall leading to the rest of the guild.

A smile crossed Vhaldykryr's face as he attached the pages
to the board, the simple nature of the task and knowledge of its impact a
bearer of joy. The mindlessness allowed his thoughts to wander, his creativity
to bubble like a stew. Ideas churned and chained in his head--a reminder to
requisition cubes for experimentation. The possibilities, and the surge of
inspiration, both delighted and distracted. They proved such a distraction that
he missed the soft approach of footsteps.

"Pleasant morning to you, Vhaldykryr. 'Tis refreshing
to see you about with such vigor and direction so early," a soft, kind
voice said, startling him from his cognitive labyrinth.

Vhaldykryr spun to face the voice's owner, a person he knew
had not meant to surprise. Before him stood a woman, slightly younger than
himself and a head shorter, with a calm, charming smile on her lovely, freckled
face. She had her brown hair tied behind her with a thread of silver, and the
faint scent of oak smoke drifted off her vibrant yellow and green
front-buttoned dress. He knew her name well and doubted he could ever forget.

"The morn looks favorable, Lytra, if a bit tiring. I
pray yours be spun with silver." He smiled at her and turned halfway to
the board. "Have you been roused long?"

"Since just before dawn broke; the fires needed
feeding, after all. 'Tis difficult to prepare with a handful of embers."
Lytra sidled fully into view as she moved her arms behind her.

"A struggle I know all too well; makes for miserable
conditions," he said, rearranging one corner of the board to accommodate
the last requests. "How many have we in at present?"

"Yourself and I make twelve. A number set to double
this afternoon."

"Yes, I read and documented Bougrie's report earlier;
means they split at least two days ago. I am to assume you received word of
their relative locations?" He cocked a brow toward her, and her glistening
green eyes smiled in return.

"Nay, not a word outside of the report's arrival. And
an estimation from the Guild Master when I pried. He tended the front in your
stead, you know."

"I do, he told me himself. Also left work for me."
He paused and turned to face Lytra again. "His scrawl worsens; I needed to
rewrite the entirety, even requests outside of our specialization. Arduous
work, nearly finished, need but deliver the remainder."

"Outside? You mean suited for the Hunters?" Her
hands came from behind her and met over her abdomen.

He glanced to her fingers with a half-smile, "What do
you need, Lytra? You've linked your tips again."

She looked down with a giggled at his observation and hid
her hands again. "We have few loaves left, even fewer when the others eat.
My undying gratitude if you would stop at the baker's on your return?"

"I see no reason why I couldn't. If we are as hard off
you claim, I assume you would like loaves in addition to the usual order?"
He glanced at her shy act and smiled.

"Yes! Any number would carry a great distance."
Lytra clasped her hands before her bosom. Her motions displayed a refreshing
liveliness he found odd for this early in the day.

"Consider it done. Have you any other tasks with which
you desire assistance?"

"Oh, I dare not employ you as mule. All other matters
shall be handled in due course, with proficiency. If you'll excuse me,
Vhaldykryr, I must return to the preparations. Worry not, for I will keep a portion
for your return." With a terse bow, she turned and left.

Vhaldykryr watched her walk away; a cringe slow upon his
face. When she rounded the corner, he sighed and started toward the foyer. With
the heel of his hand, he rubbed the center of his chest and distracted himself
with thoughts of his impending trip through town.

***

The trip through Vheisnal, a town of stone and wood
structures, went uneventfully. Often he would be waylaid, stopped by one or
more persons. Some would share news, while others sought aid or made requests
of him as an agent. Of these distractions, his favorite were the children. They
always asked to see a trick or two and enjoyed them with genuine enthusiasm.
But today the residents scurried about, too busy to pay him mind. Considering
his morning thus far, he appreciated the distance.

The Hunter's Hall sat outside of Vheisnal, on the edge of
the western forest. The structure, built of great logs from the forest's
depths, stood amidst smaller buildings and a concentration of kennels. The
pleasant smell of smoke from behind the hall tickled his nose and reminded him
of his lack of sustenance.

Vhaldykryr, ignoring his stomach's cry, pressed forward into
the hall. He barely passed the threshold when a graying old bear of a man greeted
him.

"Morn to ye, Vhaldykryr! To what do we owe the pleasure
of a dawn-birthed visit?" The graying man, known to Vhaldykryr as the
hall's master, Valsjiark Vari-Lurng, shouted from behind a table tucked in the
corner. Beside the fur-dressed man laid another graying old bear, who lifted
its head and looked on with disinterest.

"Greetings, Huntmaster. I come bearing misallocated
requests; a litany of visitors came to the wrong hall in the dark hours,"
Vhaldykryr said as he approached the Huntmaster's table, a wary eye on the
bear.

"Oh? That all?"

"You sound as if you expected a different cause. Do I
want to know why?" He set the parchments on the table and slid them to
Valsjiark, content with not being turned away.

"Prob'ly not; will hear nonetheless. We had another
visitor from the hall of dust and formless chittering last night, now didn't
we, Nyuld?" The old huntsman turned to the bear and stroked its hide with
a deep laugh. The beast responded with a tired, half-hearted growl.

Vhaldykryr did not join in the laughter.

"Ol' Gialdyth, stopped in 'fore the moon hopped over.
Came with a mug of prattle; knew he had an inquiry right-off. Asked of Hezyiah;
told him she's out on a hunt." He took the requests and began reading
them. "Will tell ye she's out
hunting a pack of displaced thistle wolves southeast of Ramiril. Sorry she's
not in to say hello."

"Perhaps for the best. I suspect she would've wanted to
show me how her howlers were doing and you wouldn't get these requests for a
good while. As for grandfather, I appreciate your humoring him."

"Ehh, I don't mind Gialdyth. We've both been around
long enough to get along. Even if he can be a bother." Valsjiark loosed
another laugh and rose from the table. The bear didn't stir an inch at the
screech of the chair.

"Appreciated no less. Now, I beg your forgiveness, but
I must depart. I had promised Lytra I would stop in and procure bread from the
bakery." Vhaldykryr bowed to the man.

"Ah, hold. Ye got me remembering, have some dried
shanks and bits for Lady Lytra. Let me send ye with a sack; have the rest
brought over by some o' the lads round noon,"
the man-bear said and slapped the stack of requests down on a small table
beneath the hall's board. He didn't take no for an answer, nor he did wait for
an answer at all before disappearing through a rear door.

Vhaldykryr didn't move a muscle, concerned eyes locked on
Nyuld. The beast didn't open an eye or stir an inch, too tired to bother with
him; though apparent, he still didn't feel eased. This skittishness, in spite
of his experience with far worse entities, burnt his neck like a brand. Never
would he admit this sensation, not to anyone.

As he observed, time slipped from him. In the all-consuming
moment, only he and the creature existed while all else faded. Until
Valsjiark's boom returned him to his senses, "Still worried of
Nyuld?"

"If I may, Huntmaster, do you know the reason Nyuld
dislikes grandfather and myself, and yet pays Dailyth no mind?" Vhaldykryr
faced the man, who held up a thin cord in his large hand--an almost comical
disparity. At the end of the rope, tied shut, dangled a sack.

"Hmm, because he sees the two of ye as threats.
Gialdyth, himself, is cause enough. Not sure why ye..." The Huntmaster
tilted his head up and looked down at Vhaldykryr, as if the cause for the
bear's animosity resided upon his face, waiting to be deciphered like a foreign
text.

"Eh, never the matter. Here." He thrust the rope
tied sack into his visitor's hand with a broad grin.

"Ye best get getting before Lady Lytra starts wondering
what's tied ye down; ye have spent long enough blathering with this old
huntsman." Valsjiark laughed as he escorted Vhaldykryr from the building.

***

The bakery resided near the town's southern entrance,
through which the road to crop fields and the river where the water mill stood
ran. The large structure, built of more stone than wood, housed six ovens and a
shop front. The scent of bread and other goods born of these ovens had so
permeated the premises as to be a permanent fixture, an ambiance to the area.

The location tended to stay busy from morning until evening,
the need for bread ever continuous. But, today differed. For as Vhaldykryr
approached, he noticed the scent weaker than normal. And when he drew within
sight of the building, saw far fewer townsfolk about than expected. A curious
yet appreciated sight.

With a smile to himself, he tugged the rope further upon his
shoulder and entered the bakery.

The interior of the shop, arranged to display various types
of bread and sweetmeats, suggested why the scent had faded. Of all the products
present, day-old loaves were few and fresh non-existent. Vhaldykryr thought the
sight odd, as the ovens start before dawn--a detail mentioned by the baker's
eldest son one morn when they crossed paths on the south road. Odder still, and
of greater concern, was who tended the front. Where he expected the baker's
wife stood their fourth child, and sole daughter, Idyliel.

The young woman, garbed in a simple dress, had her brown
hair in a loose braid from above her right eye, around behind her ear, and then
down her back. Her brown eyes fell on him when he pressed in from the street,
the empty store worthless as a distraction.

"Pleasant mid-morning to you, Vhaldykryr! Have you come
in for a treat?" the young woman, ever the morning person, chirped.

"Afraid not, Idyliel. Lytra asked I procure some loaves
and place an order. Though, if I may judge, both may be difficult."
Vhaldykryr approached the counter, eyes still on the near-empty cases.

"I fear you are correct; a problem arose at the mill.
Mama and my elder brothers went down at dawn. Papa and the rest do what they
can with the little remaining flour. I hope they resolve the problem
soon," she said with a melancholy smile.

"Well, that shan't impede the order and I will purchase
what old bread you have to make do," Vhaldykryr said with a concerned
look, aware how the lack of ingredients must've made her morning difficult.

"Certainly. As the order is for Lytra, I assume the
usual amount?" She pulled a parchment from behind the counter and prepared
to detail the order.

"Our understandings align."

Idyliel nodded and began to write the order with a practiced
hand and a mind familiar with the details. "If I may ask, is Lytra well?
She has not been by recently. Has she been on contract?"

"To my knowledge, she has neither taken a job nor come
ill; I suspect she oversaw the hall in my absence. Did you need something of
her?" Vhaldykryr set a hand on the counter and gave the rope a tug to keep
the sack off the floor.

"Hmm, I suppose. It's just...the Festival of Five
Pedestals draws near and, I wished to ask her assistance with the feast."
The brunette flicked her eyes up from the parchment. "Assuming she is not
needed elsewhere, of course."

"Doubtful she will be. Matters of such severity are
rare. Would you like me to ask her for you?"

"Oh, I could not ask such of you. I will stop by and
talk with her myself; it has been far too long as is. Appreciate you
offering." Idyliel returned the quill to the inkwell with a cheerful
smile. "You said you also wished to purchase what bread we had left,
yes?"

"What you can spare, at least. I am led to believe we
are as low on bread as you are on flour," Vhaldykryr replied.

"We have nine loaves left, all a day or two old. You
can have the lot if you need."

"Then the lot I shall take. Scarcity has yet to drive
the price up, I hope."

Idyliel's smile broadened, "Not as of yet, and none
need know." She looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Wait
here; you will need something to carry them back in."

As she turned to head into the back, Vhaldykryr saw her
smile turn mischievous. While he didn't know the woman like Lytra did, he did
know her to get playful and droll. The uncertainty about her devised ploy
concerned him and spurred curiosity as he fished out curved, silver coins from
his first belt-tied pouch. The lass, unlike certain other individuals, never
scared him with her antics which, unfortunately, did so tend to draw the
attentions of those unaware of the jape.

Two minutes after she left, Idyliel returned with a basket
and a constrained smile.

"I'm afraid we lack any rope or leather sacks for your
collection, so I hope this basket will suffice." Her smile went broad
again as she moved the loaves into the basket.

"Should talk to the Huntmaster, then. Suspect he has
more. Can hide them about, surprise me when next I come in," he said with
a chuckle, more amused by her attempt at humor than with the quip itself.

Idyliel returned to
the counter, set the basket down, and counted the coins. She didn't doubt the
number, knowing Vhaldykryr to be good on his payments, but also knew to check
nonetheless. To not do so and be short a coin or two, by mistake or by intent,
would make a fool of her. As predicted, the amount was correct.

"Alright, here you are," she said and pushed the
basket toward him.

As he reached for the basket, the brown eyes woman spoke
again, "Uh, Vhaldykryr, before you go...might I ask a question of
you?" Her voice dropped as she spoke, a mumble by the end.

"Of course."

"Has...um, Galgior returned from his request?" She
cast her eyes down at the counter and refused to look up.

He furrowed his brow as he mulled the question. No answer
came to mind, but a problem did.

"Need you to be more specific; we have...five in the
registry?" He replied, brow still furrowed. He hadn't realized the
prevalence of the name before and found it beyond belief.

"Galgior of Neivalst."

"Ah, Neivalst." Vhaldykryr tilted his head back in
an exaggerated nod. "He's on loan to the branch in Yialda, has been for a
fortnight now. Why?"

"Uh, um, no particular reason. Do you know when he'll
be back?" Her voice remained hushed as if she felt ashamed of her
questions. Or didn't want someone overhearing.

"Depends on when the mountain passes clear. Heavy
snowfall has had them blocked for the last month and a half; the hall in Yialda
is waiting to get three from the keep." He shook his head. "Unusually
cold up there for this time of year..."

For how obtuse Vhaldykryr could be in these matters,
Idyliel's meaning did not go unnoticed. With a smirk, he said,
"Hmm...considering how long he has been in Yialda, his morale may benefit
from a brief return home. Will have to see who I can send up when I return to
the hall."

The young lady perked up at this and looked back to the man,
broad smile back on her face. "I would be greatly appreciative. Thank
you."

"No need for thanks. I should leave now. Take care, and
may your flour issues be resolved soon."

With the exchange complete, Vhaldykryr gave Idyliel a
friendly nod, took the basket of bread, and departed the store. He considered
bringing out aid in carrying the foodstuffs, but decided against the idea; the
act would only draw attention. Without a look at his surroundings, he headed
east through town and toward the hall.

Stats

Author

TX

About

Currently working on a follow-up to "Tome of Reality." - Update - Project looks to be running long, may end up broken into two.
My stories tend to reach toward five thousand words, which can be mad.. more..